Jul. 8th, 2021

Here we sit

Jul. 8th, 2021 02:17 am
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It's been a wild few years. So much has changed for myself and those around me.
We have a parrot. Our dog has an injured leg and she's in pain (13), our 3-legged kitty is about 21, and its hard watching things decline for the both of them. It was only a year ago, in March, that Precious died at 15 I think it was. But at the same time, sometimes I think I can see a carriage or caravan coming to carry all these souls home. All orchestrated. Perfectly.




In terms of personal grief, this past April was particularly hard; the wound felt fresher than it had 16 years ago. It was eye-opening and surprising to me. I let myself cry and talk more than usual. Of course the signs remain all around me. I feel like if I were in the Victorian ages, I would be in a perpetual state of mourning. I'd walk forever, veiled in black, waiting for what will never come, and unable to go to whom I'm searching.

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